


consulting the family doctor

by automatronic



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Sibling Bonding, fish sibling emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/automatronic/pseuds/automatronic
Summary: Cass has always wanted to grow up to be a doctor.





	consulting the family doctor

“Doctor Cass, I’ve been _poisoned_ with _Space Plague_!!” Sokrates exclaims, collapsing onto Euanthe in a dramatic faint. Euanthe sighs, pushing them off and onto the floor.

“No! That’s not how this works!” Cass objects, pouting. They did all the research and read all the books, and even though they didn’t know all the words because they’re only six, they know everything that they can know about being a doctor, but all of that is useless if Sokrates won’t take this seriously.

“You have to tell me your symtoms, and I’ll tell you how to stop being sick!”

“It’s pronounced _symptoms_ , Cass,” chimes Euanthe. Cass frowns. Euanthe knows everything, but Cass still knows more about doctor stuff than them.

They shush Euanthe. “You’re still healing. You need to sleep!” Euanthe rolls their eyes, but still lets Cass push them over so that they’re lying down. Cass administers another bandaid on top of the papercut they got earlier, to make it better. They then place another kiss on Euanthe’s forehead, to make it better-er.

“Doctoooorrr,” Sokrates whines from the floor, “I’m still poooisoned. The symptom is death!” they screw their eyes shut and stick their tongue out for emphasis.

Cass sits down next to Sokrates on the floor and pokes their face, eliciting a giggle in response. Sokrates’ eyes peak open, and when they see Cass’ disappointed face, they burst out laughing. Cass gently kisses Sokrates’ forehead too.

“I’ve given you the vaccine for Space Plague!” they declare. “But….” Cass bows their head.

“What?” Sokrates sits up, concerned.

“I can’t cure that fact that you’re a butthead!”

Euanthe snorts from their bed and Sokrates shouts, “Hey!” as they start to get up. Cass blows a raspberry at both of them before turning around and taking off into the palace, laugh as Sokrates cases after them.

 

* * *

  

It feels like they had just spoken to Euanthe on the phone. They hardly ever got a chance to speak anymore; it was rare that both of their stations experienced long enough moments of peace to justify an hours-long video call, but they cherished any opportunity they got.

Sokrates had left them a message nearly every day, inane ramblings about the facility they were at and the people they worked with and any detail that wasn’t labeled Top Secret that they could share. But now they were---gone, now, and the last messages they left had been confiscated for security reasons before Cass could listen to them, anyway.

Cass was overjoyed when, for the first time in months, they had finally gotten a chance to talk to their sibling. Euanthe had been stern and confident as ever, relaying what their unit had been up to and the ways they had pushed back the forces of the Diaspora this time. When Cass had asked about the bruises and the gauze stuck to their face, Euanthe had broke, smiling and saying, “The Diasporans barely even know how to give paper cuts. I’m fine. And our medics are sufficient, even if they don’t have your healing kisses, Little Minnow“

Cass had laughed and buried their head in their hands. They’d talked for a couple hours, before Euanthe had been called away. They’d left them with the reassurance, “We’ll secure this outpost soon enough, and then I’ll come home to the capitol.”

They wish it had been that simple. Now, Euanthe is lying on a hospital bed, looking so small and still that Cass wants to scream. They already had to yell at someone to be allowed in here; at the back of their mind they can picture Euanthe being proud of them for asserting their status as an heir to the crown. The heir, Cass remembers. That’s what they are now, now that there’s no one else left—

They take Euanthe’s hand and try to focus on something else, or else they’ll be sick, but Euanthe is too cold on top of everything.

The doctor, who Cass so very desperately wants to be able to blame, had said that it would take a miracle for Euanthe to wake up again. Without thinking, they find themself placing a soft kiss on Euanthe’s forehead. They don’t move, and Cass can feel themself going numb again. They wish that, for once, things could be that simple.

 

* * *

  

The report they had gotten had been brief. Clinical, even. ‘Candidate Sokrates was injured during a skirmish---’

They hadn't been able to keep reading, too overwhelmed by images of the worst that could happen and the memory of events that happened a decade prior. There wasn’t any more detail in the report, wouldn’t be anymore until Sokrates’ team returned. Anything could have happened.

Euanthe found them pacing in the palace’s hangar bay. They have chairs pulled up and sit down before they address Cass impassively, “Calm down, Cassander. Sokrates will be fine. They have their,” Euanthe pauses, crinkling their face in distaste,”armor. And pacing won’t make them arrive sooner, anyway.”

Cass turns to glare at Euanthe. “I don’t understand how you’re so calm.”  
“I don’t understand why you are so worried. They’ll be fine.” Euanthe retorts, not looking up from their rapid knitting.

“I thought you’d be fine.” Cass snaps back. Euanthe is visibly taken aback, frowning as they search for a response.

Cass sighs, sitting down next to them. “I’m sorry…” they trail off.

“No,” Euanthe interjects softly, “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized.”

They sit silently in the hangar for the rest of the night. Cass barely dozes off on Euanthe’s shoulder before they’re awakened by the hangar bustling to life and Euanthe prodding them gently.

They try to remain impassive as they watch the incoming ship land, and only let their hopes up when they see that there isn’t any kind of medical detail rushing Sokrates off in a stretcher. When they finally see Sokrates themself wander off the ship, Cass helps Euanthe up before rushing off to greet them with a big hug.

Sokrates seems surprised by this, and takes a moment to wrap one of their arms around Cass in response. “Um, hi?” they mumble.

Cass squeezes them one last time before stepping back. They’ve got a bruise running up their face and gauze stuck to their cheek, but the main damage seems to be their arm; the armor is fully extended out, forming what looks like a makeshift brace held up by a sling.

“You need to stop sending such ominous mission reports, Sokrates.” Euanthe chimes in from behind them. “I was worrying my scales off.”

“What, because of this?” Sokrates gestures to their arm, “This is nothing.”

“You can’t get mad at us for caring.” Cass responds. “I’m just glad you’re fine.”

“But,” Sokrates freezes, “Doctor Cass! While I was there I contracted,” Sokrates takes a few over-dramatically wobbly steps towards Cass, “the _Space Plague_!” Sokrates then makes a show of fainting in Cass’ arms, their weight knocking both of them into Euanthe, who lets out an undignified yelp.

Cass pushes Sokrates off of them, and they let out a mock-whine.

“You’re insufferable.” Euanthe scoffs as they make their own show of dusting themself off, “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter at absolutelybees


End file.
